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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27997137">The Night Is Troubled</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeBean/pseuds/SkyeBean'>SkyeBean</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bisexual Charles Xavier, Gen, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Korean War, Light Angst, Memories, Protective Siblings, Telepathy, X-Men: First Class (2011)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:54:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27997137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeBean/pseuds/SkyeBean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fives times Charles regrets his powers, and one time he doesn't.</p>
<p>aka, I feel like the films didn't touch on the complicated ethics of being a telepath, and I wanted to write about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Erik Lehnsherr &amp; Charles Xavier, Raven | Mystique &amp; Charles Xavier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>One</strong>
</p><p>Reshaping his mother’s mind to accommodate Raven’s existence is…difficult. Charles has little experience with altering memories that are more than a few hours old, and going back entire years to make Sharon Xavier think that she has always wanted a daughter is an entirely new challenge.</p><p>He does it slowly, over the course of a week; piece by piece, memory by memory, he takes the odd moment from his mother’s brain and changes it ever so slightly. A touch here, and a touch there, and by the end of seven days, his mother is perfectly agreeable to adopting Raven when Charles suggests it.</p><p>Later, when he is older and wiser and looks back on his craftsmanship, Charles will see the work for what it is: shoddy. There are gaps where there shouldn’t be, and too much happening in places, and altogether Sharon’s mind will struggle to recall the entire year of 1944. Charles will see similarities to a scrapbook, with old tatty pages and pieces glued on sloppily and photos yellowing at the edges.</p><p>In fact, the only reason his telepathy works – as he will later realise – is because of his mother’s alcoholism. Her memory is spotty anyway, and a few pieces added or subtracted here and there don’t end up doing much difference.</p><p>Twelve-year old Charles does not know that.</p><p>Raven, when Charles goes to tell her the good news, is similarly delighted. “You convinced your mother to take me in?” she cries, her whole face lighting up. The joy she feels sings in Charles’ head, intertwining with hope – brilliant, blinding hope. Charles can’t help but laugh with her, almost drunk on the powerful emotions.</p><p>          “Something like that,” he says, once Raven’s feelings have calmed to a dull throb and he had a hold of himself. “I simply changed a few thoughts of hers, since father died; adjusted her mind to let her agree to take you in.”</p><p>          “Oh,” Raven says, like she hadn’t been expecting that. Her face twists ever so slightly, before her smile returns a moment later. “I didn’t realise you could do that.”</p><p>Charles grins, but his own emotions are now tempered by the slight edge of...something to Raven’s own. So slight, <em>she</em> might not even be able to identify it. “I didn’t either! Apart from ever so slight alterations, like when I made Sally forget finding you in the study yesterday, I’ve never reached back further than a week. I <em>have</em> considered it, and read the theory, but I haven’t had a good enough reason to test it out yet. Or rather, <em>hadn’t</em>, in the past tense.”</p><p>          “That’s awesome,” Raven says, and then she glances at the door. Her smile widens, and happiness blooms again. “Can you introduce us now?”</p><p>          “What a splendid idea,” Charles exclaims. He offers his arm out to Raven, and she giggles when she takes it. “Milady?”</p><p>          “Milord,” Raven returns, then pulls away to skip out of the room.</p><p>As she goes, something in Charles’ mind clicks, and he realises what the bitter taste in the air is: fear.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>1946</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Two</strong>
</p><p>When Charles Xavier is fourteen-years old, his mother remarries.</p><p>Kurt Marko is not a nice man. Cain Marko is not either.</p><p>But—Charles has learned his lesson: Raven doesn’t like it when he alters other people’s minds. And Charles has come to realise that Raven is normally right about these things, and he likes it when Raven is happy. Because ethics concerning mind-reading may be hard to find books on, but ethics on other subjects say that controlling other people is a bad thing, and that free will is important.</p><p> </p><p>Cain first hits him four days after the wedding, while Sharon and Kurt still have two weeks left on their honeymoon. Not that that changes things for Charles; he knows better than to expect his mother to help him.</p><p>He doesn’t retaliate to the bullying, just keeps it away from Raven can see it, because he wants his mother to be happy, and he wants his sister to be happy, and if that means sucking it up when his step-brother is mean to him, then so be it. Charles’ father always said that retaliation made you the smaller person. Or, at least, Charles’ father’s notebooks had that phrase written down a few times; Brian Xavier had had little time for his family in the face of his important science career.</p><p>So Charles deals with it until the day that Raven sneaks into his room and curls up on the bed next to him and there is a purpling bruise on her pink cheek.</p><p>              “Where’s that from?” Charles asks, keeping his voice gentle as he raises a hand to inspect it.</p><p>Raven just shrugs. “Cain’s a dick, he shoved me into the doorframe as I was leaving the library.” Her mouth flickers into a grin, and her satisfaction curls through her mind. “I shoved him back.”</p><p>Anger, pure and simple, jolts through Charles; anger like he hasn’t felt since…ever. Anger at the fifteen-year old boy who thinks he can hurt Raven, after Charles has put up with his taunts and punches and shoving for months just to keep Raven out of it.</p><p>Charles opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say anything, Raven hurriedly adds, “I know, I know, I shouldn’t rise to it. I was mad.”</p><p>              “No, you shouldn’t rise to it,” Charles agrees, but the words are quiet – quiet, so Raven doesn’t hear his anger. “He won’t do it again. If he does, shove him as hard as you want.”</p><p>Because he <em>will</em> protect his sister – adopted, though she may be.</p><p>              “You’d do that for me?” Raven asks, her eyes wide and head full of wonder and awe that <em>really </em>shouldn’t be there at such a simple gesture.</p><p>Charles nods, determined. “Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>As a fourteen-year-old with few people he’s willing to practise on, Charles inevitably messes up when he tries to fog over Cain’s memories of Raven.</p><p>At dinner that evening, when Kurt Marko addresses his son, all Cain does is blankly stare at a spot just over his shoulder; when Kurt Marko repeats his question, anger and fear now tainting the room, all Cain can do is blink slowly before faintly groaning.</p><p>              “What’s wrong with you?” Kurt’s voice was low and dangerous, and there was fear swirling in the air. Fear, and absolute and utter fury. “Answer me, boy.”</p><p>Charles feels some of that fear himself, when Cain does not reply and Kurt’s gaze moves to him and suddenly, that surge of violence is directed at <em>him</em>.</p><p>              “Did you do this?” Kurt asks. “Your mother—” he doesn’t even bother to look at Sharon, and she has drunk too much and cares too little to do anything more than keep eating “—told me you were a freak, but she never told me you would <em>hurt my son.”</em></p><p>In the corner of the room, Sally – the maid who has half-raised Charles since he was a baby – is drenched with fear, her thoughts flickering by at a hundred miles an hour. Charles doesn’t let himself look at her, doesn’t let himself move his eyes from Kurt, but he knows that even if he did, he would see the bland smile Sally has to wear while she’s working.</p><p>              “I don’t what you’re talking about, sir,” Charles responds after a moment, once he has pushed through the tangled emotions that are threatening to overwhelm him.</p><p>Kurt laughs. It isn’t a pleasant sound. “Don’t lie to me, <em>boy</em>.”</p><p>When the man shoves back from the table and stomps around it and drags Charles out of the room by his ear, Raven starts out of her seat like she’s going to try and stop him.</p><p>Even though she’s still terrified of authority figures; even though Kurt Marko would do a lot worse to the adopted daughter.</p><p>As fast as he can, Charles blasts out <em>WARNING, STAY AWAY, STAY AWAY</em>, and Raven freezes where she is standing. For just a moment, her attention flickers to Sharon, like she expects the woman to do something, but the moment the door is slammed shut behind Kurt and Charles, her hope deflates like a popped balloon.</p><p>Charles regrets touching Cain’s mind.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>1949</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Three</strong>
</p>
<p>Charles lets himself be pushed back into the wall; lets the other boy tighten his hands around his hips.</p>
<p>Elation and lust and adrenaline are surging through the other boy – David, his mind reminds Charles – and Charles lets out a moan as David deepens the kiss.</p>
<p>              “<em>God</em>, Marcus was right,” David groans, right into his ear, and it sends shivers down Charles’ spine. He grips the lapels of David’s jacket; pulls him down further.</p>
<p>              “What was Marcus right about?” Charles asks. The name rings a bell, and he finds the answer in David’s mind a second later: Marcus is another boy, a friend of David’s, whom Charles had done something similar with the week before.</p>
<p>Now, Charles knows the answer to his question, but he lets David say it anyway.</p>
<p>              “You really are a good kisser. And beautiful, too.” He pulls back for a moment to sweep his eyes over Charles’ body, and it takes Charles a lot of self-control to hold back a second moan at David's sudden surge of lust.</p>
<p>It’s nice to be reminded that he’s getting something of a reputation at Oxford University. At sixteen, he was one of the youngest students, but he’d needed a good excuse to get him and Raven away from Westchester – and Kurt Marko. Because of course he’d brought Raven with him – Raven, who is now at their small flat and pissed at him – when he left America; Raven, fifteen-years old and still catching up to the decade of school she missed.</p>
<p>Now seventeen, Charles has a good few one-night stands under his belt, and it seems the men and women of Oxford are taking notice. Oh, well. As long as no one tells the police, he won’t get locked up for being interested in men. Even if he does, he can always do something about that.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, before he and David can do anything more than kiss and press against each other, the door swings open and David throws himself back. Swear words tumble from David’s mouth, and his mind is practically <em>screaming </em>with fear as a woman stops in the doorway to the small cupboard they’re in.</p>
<p>Shock and horror colour her mind, and then something else rises up: she’s going to call the police.</p>
<p>Charles strikes before he has time to think. He spears into the woman’s mind, letting go of his focus on the physical world, slipping past the jumble of surface thoughts before reaching for the memory and wiping it clean.</p>
<p><em>              You saw nothing,</em> he whispers in her mind. <em>You came in here and forgot what you were looking for. You’re going to leave now, and tell no one.</em></p>
<p>The woman straightens and turns on the spot before stiffly walking out of the storage cupboard, moving like a toy soldier under the thumb of a child.</p>
<p>Once she’s gone, Charles lets himself sag back into the wall. He’s out of practice with his telepathy, and that’s a bad thing when surrounded by thousands of people who would panic if they knew what him or his sister can do.</p>
<p>              “What the <em>hell</em> was that?” David suddenly demands, his face twisted with anger. It isn’t anger that’s surging through his mind though. It’s utter, utter fear. “She’s going to tell someone about us, and we’re going to be locked away, arrested for public indecency—”</p>
<p>Charles lets out a deep sigh. “No, she’s not. We’re not.”</p>
<p>              “How do you know that? Did you do something to her?” David pulls back as far as a person can in a cramped storage cupboard, taking all physical contact with him. “What <em>are </em>you? How did you make her just-just leave like that? Why was her face so <em>blank</em>?”</p>
<p>David’s thoughts are flying at a hundred miles a minute, and Charles’ shields are already weak from the sheer volume of alcohol he’s consumed over the course of the evening, so it takes him a minute to gather himself enough to push through the headache.</p>
<p>Once he has, Charles alters David’s memories too. He erases the man’s desire for Charles, the fear of discovery and then of Charles’ talents; all David will remember of the night is drinking too much, and nothing else.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So Charles helps David back to the flat he finds the address of in the man’s mind, shares a sympathetic smile with the man’s roommate when he exclaims that he was worried because it’s late, and then goes back to his own home to collapse onto his bed.</p>
<p>The next time David sees Charles, his eyes go wide and his body tenses and there is baseless, instinctual fear curling through him even without memories to back it up, and Charles knows his drunken-self did a shit job. And he regrets being out of practice, because it made him sloppy and go straight for the woman’s mind instead of thinking things through.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>1950</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Four</strong>
</p>
<p>The Korean War is not something Charles should have signed up for. He’d done it as a stupid spur of the moment thing – one that Raven had made him regret – and completely forgotten that he’d be seeing men die and feel them think their last thoughts.</p>
<p>Death is something Charles has encountered only a few times, before he’s shipped off to Korea with the rest of the British soldiers.</p>
<p>When he was nine, he’d found the cold body of Terrence, their groundkeeper, after the man had suffered a heart attack in the night. When he was seven, his father had died in an explosion.</p>
<p>So he is entirely unprepared the first time a man dies in front of his eyes.</p>
<p>William Henry Smith, only a year older than Charles’ eighteen, isn’t someone Charles knows. But, after the sudden attack that left the soldiers scattered and William Henry Smith with a bullet in his chest, Charles is the only one present in the man’s final moments.</p>
<p>William is sobbing, great wracking sobs that make him flinch whenever he shifts and put pressure on the wound. He can’t speak, unable to catch his breath, but his mind is <em>screaming </em>in terror.</p>
<p>
  <em>He doesn’t want to die; he doesn’t want to die; he can’t leave his wife and beautiful daughter and unborn son, and oh god he’s leaving them and he can’t even say goodbye and why in God’s name did he sign up for this wretched war, and—</em>
</p>
<p>Charles pulls out, breathing harshly as the same terror that’s coursing through William pours into him too. Terror, for the unknown darkness of death, but also for the dark fate that is sure to befall his young family when he is gone.</p>
<p>It’s pure instinct that has Charles wiping the poor man’s mind, lashing out as he tries to do something – anything – to fix this; to let his man die in peace.</p>
<p>Regret swells a moment later, when William’s face goes blank and his eyes are empty—</p>
<p>Charles desperately reaches back into William’s mind, trying to restore what he has taken away, but then everything just—stops. Something in Charles chest breaks, his breath catching in his throat as he stills. William’s body goes limp, his hand slipping out of Charles’.</p>
<p>William Henry Smith takes his last breath at eleven twenty-three on December fourth, nineteen fifty. Officers will write home to his wife and sister and brother expressing their condolences, and his family’s world will shatter in a million pieces, but to everyone else he is simply another soldier dying in another war.</p>
<p>Charles is the only one with him when he dies; the only one who knows that William’s final moments weren’t spent thinking about his family, because Charles stole that from him.</p>
<p>He just sits there a moment, reeling, before struggling to his feet. There is another man dying twenty metres away – he can feel their life slipping away, their pain – so he makes his way to him and tries again.</p>
<p>This time, he doesn’t take anything. Instead, he simply soothes him with only a brush of his powers, and holds Patrick Reese’s hand as the man slips away. He takes with him another shard of Charles heart.</p>
<p>And he does it again and again, across the battlefield – across the war – until every dying man is dead, and he is sent home with the ceasefire.</p>
<p>Raven will always say that Charles came back different.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>1962</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Five</strong>
</p><p>Headquarters has a shroud of mourning draped over it when Charles returns from their mission in Russia.</p><p>Even the most poker-faced agents can’t hide their sorrow at the scene that greets them; hundreds of shattered bodies take time to scrape off the ground. Moira thinks she’s about to be sick, and even Erik looks a little pale as the three of them take in the sight of headquarters. Charles is—Charles has seen worse than this before, in Korea and in the minds of other people, but other people’s pain and grief and rage always makes things harder. He pushes through anyway, and picks out the people he’s looking for out of the crowd.</p><p>The children – can anyone be called a child after seeing their best friend implode? – were desolate. Their fear and anger and disgust and rage and grief and sorrow are stagnating around them, clinging like mist on a cold winter day, and it is only years of practice that allows Charles to reach them mentally unscathed. Negative emotions are…bad for telepaths, especially ones as strong as Charles.</p><p>The conversation about their next move is quickly swept out of Charles’ focus by one of the agents hurrying up to Moira and whispering something in her ear; before she has the chance to make a decision on the information, Charles lets himself fall into the agent’s mind.</p><p>              <em>His name is Richard Scott and he’s thirty-one years old and he’s been in the agency for eleven years now and he’s never seen anything like this before and he’s grieving and he’s scared of the mutants and it’s all their fault that this happened, if they hadn’t brought this danger here—</em></p><p>Charles brushes past the irrelevant information with ease, diving straight to the important stuff.</p><p>              “I’ll do it,” he tells Moira and Richard, the latter of whom flinches back at being addressed. His fear spikes. “Which hospital are these men and women recuperating in?”</p><p>The question brings the answer to the forefront of Richard’s mind, and from there Charles plucks it like a rose from his mother’s garden. The ones that he’ll be seeing again soon.</p><p>He shoves his own thoughts aside and focuses on the matter at hand. “St Mary’s it is then.”</p><p>Absolute terror surges through Richard for a moment, and Charles is about to say something to comfort the man, but then he’s power-walked off already.</p><p>When Charles raises an expectant eyebrow at Moira, there is the mental equivalent of a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to his fellow mutants’ confusion. Except for Raven, who is simply exasperated.</p><p>              “Do you want to tell the rest of us what’s going on, Charles?” Erik asks, and there is an amused tone to his voice but Charles can see into his mind and knows that it’s fake. Erik is still affected by the sea of bodies surrounding them, he’s just trying to hide it. For his pride, and for the already panicking children.</p><p>              “He always does this,” Raven says, annoyance flickering. On a better day, it would have been fond. “Forgets that the rest of us aren’t telepaths.”</p><p>              “My apologies,” Charles says. “The CIA wants me to scour the minds of those agents still clinging to life, to attempt to find out more about the mutants who attacked.”</p><p>Charles is the only one who sees Raven still; the only one who feels her worry spiking at those words.</p><p>              “You can do that?” Sean asked, glancing at Alex for a second as he sat up straighter. Surprise crossed his mind.</p><p>Charles let the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, into an amused smile. “Yes, I can.”</p><p>              “Even when they’re, like, unconscious or whatever?”</p><p>              “Even when they’re unconscious,” Charles agrees, nodding.</p><p>Raven’s worry peaks, but she doesn’t say anything. Charles makes a mental note to talk to her later, when they’re somewhere more private.</p><p>              “Well, that’s our afternoon sorted,” Erik says, his eyes glittering with amusement at Sean and Alex’s confusion. “Anyone want to add anything else?”</p><p>Taking the opportunity, Hank nods eagerly. “Yes! I’d be fascinated to learn more about the limits of your powers, Professor.”</p><p>Hiding his wince at the thought of someone learning so much about him, Charles gives the younger scientist an apologetic smile. “Maybe another time.”</p><p>              “Oh.” Hank deflates, his shoulders slumping and disappointment clear as day.</p><p>              “Today’s not a good day for Charles,” Raven offers, stepping forward to rest a supportive hand on Charles’ shoulder. It’s the first time she’s spoken since telling him that Darwin is dead. “I’m sure he’d love to give you a detailed analysis another time.”</p><p>Hank brightens at Raven’s supportive smile, and then she angles her head slightly so only Charles could see her face when she pointedly adds, “Wouldn’t you Charles?”</p><p>              “I would?” Charles murmurs, his brow creasing slightly.</p><p>Raven’s grip tightens on his shoulder as her mind broadcasts the thought, <em>Yes. You would</em>.</p><p>              “I would,” Charles agrees quickly, leaning around his sister to give Hank a wide and fake smile. “I’m sure we can arrange a time, some…time.”</p><p>Hank beams at him. “That sounds great, Professor!”</p><p> </p><p>Hospitals are bad places for Charles to be – for any telepath to be, really. There’s not only the painful ripples of death that he had grown accustomed to as a soldier, but also the grieving of their families. It’s a shame he’s never had a reason to visit a maternity ward, really, because he’d imagine things were happier there. Sadly, single men with only one, also single, sister, don’t have much opportunity for that.</p><p>Agent Scott is twitchy as he leads Charles to the hospital rooms that the CIA have taken for their dying agents. Perhaps he’s scared of the other mutants, who are trailing along behind Charles like a flock of lost ducklings.</p><p>Not that any of said mutants would appreciate the comparison; Erik, in particular, would be offended by it, Charles muses.</p><p>When they reach the corridor of dying agents, Richard scurries off, leaving Moira to roll her eyes before leading Charles – and company - to the first room.</p><p>              “This is Agent Butler,” she reads out from the clipboard at the end of the bed. “He was at Division X’s headquarters at time of attack, the red mutant--”</p><p>              “Azazel,” Charles interjects without taking his focus off the man in the bed.</p><p>              “Right, Azazel,” Moira corrects herself. “He was dropped, but from a low enough height that he survived.”</p><p>She reads something else that Charles doesn’t bother to check, purses her lips, then tucks the clipboard back into its place.</p><p>“He’s all yours,” Moira tells him grimly. She moves to one side, as he heads towards the hospital bed. Charles’ steps are slow and deliberate, and he keeps his face clear of everything but his determination.</p><p>              “So...” Sean’s loud whisper breaks the silence, as he leans down so he’s speaking into Raven’s ear. “Is the Professor all dramatic? Like, waving hands and all?” The young man seems carefree, but Charles absently identifies the tell-tale signs of forced levity, as he prepares himself for the mind of Agent Butler.</p><p>              “Shut up,” Raven hisses back.</p><p>Charles is surprised at just how protective his sister is being; she always complains when he behaves similarly. The others are surprised, too, so he’s not the only one.</p><p>Shoving his procrastinating thoughts to one side, Charles takes a final step forward so he is at Butler’s bedside. He barely even has to lean forward to rest his two fingers on the side of the agent’s face, and then he is slipping into the man’s mind like it’s made of butter.</p><p>Unconscious minds are always odd, especially when the unconsciousness is cause by drugs; they make everything…muted. Flat.</p><p>When Charles tries to get a read on a <em>regular </em>person, going about their day, he has to wade through thoughts and feelings, all whizzing past at a hundred miles an hour. He’s grown used to it, though, so he can normally find what he needs in just a second or two.</p><p>When he tries to enter the mind of someone who’s unconscious, it’s almost too easy to find exactly what he needs. But, in the same vein, it’s also easy to slide past what he’s looking for, like an inexperienced ice skater falling all over the place, until he’s lost in the maze of their mind.</p><p>Butler’s mind is quiet and undisturbed, flat as the sea on a still day. Charles starts into it, and looks for the man’s last memory; he finds it quickly, and is immediately brought face-to-face with the red mutant named Azazel.</p><p>Watching the memory in its entirety is incredibly painful, and Charles can faintly feel his body physically recoil when he – Butler – hits the concrete.</p><p>He yanks himself back before the pain of the memory can set it, back into the front of Butler’s mind as he prepares to slip back out – and to feel that pain again and again, for each of the injured agents – but—</p><p>That isn’t really what Moira wants to know. Now, he can read her intent with pinpoint accuracy: she, and the CIA, want him to strip the agents mind for any state secrets. To find out everything Butler knew, in case things took a bad turn with his health.</p><p>              <em>I didn’t agree to that</em>, he whispers in her mind.</p><p>Moira’s mind instinctively tenses when he makes clear his intrusion, but after a moment a thought forms in response. <em>My bosses didn’t tell me until you were all in the car. They didn’t think you’d want to do it.</em></p><p>
  <em>              You’re right. I don’t.</em>
</p><p><em>              Think of it this way</em>, Moira replies. <em>By finding these secrets, you honour the sacrifice of these men.</em></p><p><em>              What sacrifice? </em>Charles asks. <em>All they were doing was working in the base.</em></p><p>Despite what he tells her, Charles only gives Moira a faint note of disapproval before returning to Butler’s mind and moving deeper than before.</p><p>Disentangling secrets is difficult when they’re wrapped up in months of undercover work and boring papers and family life, which Charles has no interest on intruding on.</p><p>Then there is a sudden, internal, clang, which he freezes at, and then—</p><p>Agent Butler <em>dies</em>.</p><p>Charles <em>wrenches </em>out, staggering backwards and collapsing against the wall as his brain <em>screams </em>with the pain of death. His stomach tries to empty itself, and he holds his vomit back as he clutches his head.</p><p>              “Charles, Charles,” Raven is murmuring, her face just a few inches from his. She’s worried and panicking and she thinks that Charles never should have tried this and she doesn’t know exactly what’s happened but she’s figured out that Butler’s probably died and-</p><p>Her face closes off, and her mental shields snap up. “Stay out of my head.” The words aren’t said with the usual bite, because she’s worried and her mental shields aren’t going to do a single thing to keep Charles out when he’s panicking like this and she knows it too.</p><p>              “What’s going on? What’s happened?” Erik asks from where he’s standing. Utter shock is radiating from him because he’s never seen Charles like this before and he doesn’t know what to do and he’s worried that Charles found something terrible in Butler’s mind, but doesn’t want to show weakness in front of the human and—</p><p>Raven doesn’t turn away from Charles, but she says, “I think Butler’s died.”</p><p>Horror ripples through the room, and Hank practically dives to Butler’s side to take a pulse, and the scientist is terrified at the idea that <em>another</em> man has died right in front of him and he stood and did nothing and his mutation is so useless and he can’t even save people with it and why is Charles acting like this, what’s happened to him—</p><p>              “Raven,” he gasps out. She instantly snaps to attention, her back straightening and her hand reaching out to hover over his arm, not touching yet because she never knows how he’ll react when he’s like this because that asshole Kurt Marko messed him up sometimes and hurt him and he still flinches sometimes— “Need—I—”</p><p>Raven immediately nods, her hands crossing the short distance to rest on his shoulders. “Out of here? Okay.”</p><p>And then she’s in business, pointing and gesturing and ordering the others to move out of the way because Charles needs to get out of here and then Hank and Alex and Sean and Erik all think that they can help because they’re stronger and could carry Charles and then Erik reaches down to help Charles up off the ground and Charles <em>doesn’t want anyone else touching him</em>.</p><p>              “If I needed your help, I’d say so,” Raven growls at them all, her mind threatening violence before her hands are again on Charles except now they’re under his arms and helping him to his feet and his legs buckle under him and there’s a fresh wave of nausea and he vomits all over the floor but Raven just ignores it even though she thinks it’s gross.</p><p>The walk to the car is simultaneously one of the longest and shortest in Charles’ life. His world is a blur of thoughts and feelings and he finds out more about the doctor’s love lives than he would ever want to know, and more about his friends that he ever thought he would, and then he is in the car with Raven and she is driving the two of them away from other people, and it is blessed relief.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>also 1962</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Plus One</strong>
</p>
<p>The gun feels wrong in Charles’ hands. After he returned from the Korean War, he’d sworn that he’d never touch a gun again. But here he is, holding one an inch from his friend’s forehead.</p>
<p>              “Are you sure?”</p>
<p>Erik gives him a wide grin that wouldn’t be out of place on a shark. Charles isn’t entirely sure how it’s supposed to reassure him. “I’m sure.”</p>
<p>Accepting his friend’s decision, Charles nods and tightens his grip on the gun. His hand is shaking, he realises, and tries to relax. It doesn’t help.</p>
<p>Erik is excited; waiting with anticipation to show off his powers. He <em>wants </em>Charles to do this.</p>
<p>Squeezing his eyes shut doesn’t help Charles un-see the last man he shot, and memories he’s tried to bury rise for just a second. There’s a flash of concern from Erik when Charles’ hand doesn’t stop shaking.</p>
<p>              “No,” Charles bursts out, practically dropping the gun as he shakes his head and looks away from the delight-turning-to-annoyance on Erik’s face. He can already feel it in his head; he doesn't need to see it too. “No, I can’t, I’m sorry. I can’t—I can’t shoot anybody point-blank, let alone my friend.”</p>
<p>Erik’s irritation spikes, and he grabs Charles’ gun-wielding hand to position the barrel back against his forehead. “Oh, come on,” he complains. “I <em>know</em> I can deflect it, and you’re always telling me to push myself.”</p>
<p>That is true; Charles <em>is</em> always telling Erik to push himself. He isn’t, however, telling Erik that he’s willing to shoot him, but he doesn’t particularly want to get too deep into the reasons why not, so he just glosses over the subject by saying, “If you know you can deflect it, then you’re <em>not </em>challenging yourself.”</p>
<p>He pulls the gun out of Erik’s grip and lets his arm fall back down to his side. If he didn’t think it would get one of them shot, he’d toss the gun away, but army training taught him better than that.</p>
<p>              “Whatever happened to man who was-who was trying to raise a submarine?” Charles continues, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>Erik goes from irritated to startled in about one second flat. “What? I can’t—”</p>
<p>Charles holds the gun out to him, and Erik takes it with an annoyed noise.</p>
<p>              “Something that big? I need the...the situation; the anger.”</p>
<p>After studying the man for the last few weeks, and other mutations for half his life, Charles knows that that’s wrong. He says so.</p>
<p>Something in Erik – something that feels like it grew there when he was child facing <em>unimaginable</em> horror – bristles at the implication. “Well, it’s gotten the job done all this time.”</p>
<p>              “It’s nearly gotten you <em>killed</em> all this time,” Charles corrects. But—he doesn’t like being critical without also being constructive, so he suggests that Erik try with the satellite instead. From what he knows of Erik’s powers, from what he’s seen the man do, he knows that the only limits he’s encountered so far are self-imposed.</p>
<p>              “See that?” Charles asks, moving to point at the huge dish that Erik had pushed Sean off of the previous week. “Try turning it to face us.”</p>
<p>Erik stares at it for a moment, then glances at Charles. There’s uncertainty flaring now, enough that Charles can feel it even through his shields, so he tries to give his friend a reassuring nod.</p>
<p>It seems to work, and Erik turns back to the dish and holds his hands out.</p>
<p>Rage, <em>pure</em> rage, rises in him, and it is only years of discipline that allow Charles to feel it without choking. But he <em>can</em> stay there, so he does, and then when Erik flops down onto the stone railing with a red-face and acceptance flowing through him, Charles doesn’t just let that be.</p>
<p>              “You know,” he says while Erik still gasps for breath, “I believe that true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity.”</p>
<p>Nearly two decades seeing the fear his <em>own</em> powers can bring about make Charles ask for permission before venturing into Erik’s mind; he slips in as gently as possible and moves about carefully so as not to disturb his friend any more than he has to. Erik has already made his dislike of Charles’ powers clear.</p>
<p>There is—so much pain in Erik, pain that Charles wouldn’t wish upon anyone, human or mutant. But that pain is not his to delve into, so he ignores it as best he can and ventures deeper. Accidentally seeing someone’s secrets because that person is thinking about them is an entirely different thing to asking if he can look in their mind and then intruding on memories where he isn’t welcome.</p>
<p>The memory he finds is—it’s a beautiful one. A young Erik is lighting a menorah with his mother, Edie. Bringing it to the surface, to the forefront of Erik’s mind, is one of the easiest things Charles has ever done with his telepathy.</p>
<p>              “What did you just do to me?” Erik asks, and there is a defensive tone to his voice. He always forgets that façades don’t work that well on telepaths, and Charles can right through it to the little boy still grieving for his mother.</p>
<p>Charles wipes away the tear rolling down his cheek, and then moves to lean against the stone next to Erik. “I…accessed the brightest corner of your memory system. That was…that was a very beautiful memory, Erik. Thank you.”</p>
<p>The corner of Erik’s mouth twitches up, and his emotions are so confused right now that Charles is getting a bit of headache just by being in his presence. “I didn’t know I still had that.”</p>
<p>              “There’s so much more to you than you know,” Charles tells him, meeting his gaze evenly. Even after just a few weeks, he’s come to see Erik as a friend; a title that normally takes people a long time to earn. Raven would say that no one holds it, but then Raven is sister. “Not just pain, and anger. There’s good too. I felt it. When you can access all that, you’ll possess a power no one can match. Not…not even me.”</p>
<p>A resolve is beginning to form in Erik, so Charles’ huffs a laugh and pats his shoulder.</p>
<p>              “So come on. Try again?”</p>
<p>The pair of them turn back to the satellite. Erik holds his hand out again, but this time instead of rage and pain, he summons the joy and sorrow of his memory.</p>
<p>And then the satellite it turning, and they are both laughing with elation, and Charles will long remember this moment as one of his fondest with Erik.</p>
<p> </p>
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